I woke up again at three in the morning, staring at that floating loss number. The position isn't even that big, but it feels like someone is holding your eyelids open, refusing to let you sleep.

It's strange—a floating gain of the same magnitude only makes you smirk for two seconds, but a floating loss can loop in your head all night long. That wave of GameFi was the same: watching the token spiral downward, knowing it was a problem with the inflation model, and probabilistically I should have bailed long ago, but the thought "what if it bounces back" weighs heavier than any stop-loss line.

Simply put, the brain treats floating losses as real money already lost, and floating gains as borrowed luck. This loss aversion thing—it makes you calculate the same unchanging number over and over in the wee hours until dawn.

Now I just don't look at my positions before bed anyway. The probabilities won't shift just because I stare at them a few more times.